A Wild Night and a New Road
by Cookies and Ink
Summary: Sirius has someone to protect and not even Death will get in his way.


**A/N**: The title is inspired by a quote from Emily Dickinson: 'Dying is a wild night and a new road'. This fic was written for the Season 7 QLFC Quarter Finals. I am Chaser 3 for the Montrose Magpies. All Prompts are listed at the bottom of the fic.

Word Count: 1,799

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**A Wild Night and a New Road**

Sirius had always been afraid of the dark.

As a child, punishment came in the form of shadows and the stale taste of neglect: a locked door and the pang of his empty stomach. In Azkaban, the night sky was loathed by every prisoner, bringing nightmares that made the inmates scream until they were only echoes of begs and whispers, their throats raw and voices cracking.

When he felt himself falling backwards, the panic Sirius had felt at knowing Harry had been manipulated into a Death Eater trap came back in full force. Sirius gripped his wand and braced himself, expecting to feel the floor connecting with the back of his head any second. Except, he kept falling. The darkness that had enveloped him — some illusion cast by Bellatrix no doubt — did not fade away. He could not see anything and gone were the sounds of battle that had made him feel alive for the first time in months.

"This simply will not do."

Sirius barely processed that he was on his feet instead of hitting the floor — he simply reacted, casting a Bone-Breaking Charm in the direction the voice had come from. The darkness was cast aside by red curse light and Sirius squinted as a silver figure came out of the gloom.

Sirius gripped his wand tighter.

Abruptly, everything changed. Sirius hadn't moved, and yet he was suddenly sat in the Potters' kitchen. He blinked hard, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as his face twisted into a snarl. Of course, he remembers it on sight; it had been the first place—the only place— that had ever felt like home to him. Hogwarts had felt like safety but it had also come with notoriety, with ostracisation, stress and politics. The Potters' had been filled with a warmth he had tentatively accepted, their love selfless.

"This is extremely unusual for you to come here. It is not a path most take."

"Where is here? Bella, is this your way of fighting dirty?" Sirius forced himself to laugh as he stalked through the kitchen. "You can't win against me in a straight fight, so you have to come up with some ridiculous charade?" He clung to the fury that coursed through him, but panic ebbed and flowed under the surface. He wanted to find some flaw in the illusion, but as he knocked on the wooden counters and opened cupboards filled with patterned china and gleaming utensils, all Sirius could think was that it felt too real. There was no way his cousin was that good at magic.

"This is the first place your life changed, where you feel most at ease. Was that not in the books or scrolls you read to find this place? I presume you are another adventurer; they are the only ones who walk through the doorways. I must admit, humans do continue to surprise me."

The figure took a step closer, seemingly unimpressed when Sirius shot another curse. Instead of causing an explosion that should have at least removed one limb, if not more, it passed right through the silver shadow and dissipated into nothing. Confused, Sirius opened his mouth and the figure snapped their fingers. They were suddenly both sat at the kitchen table, and Sirius found he couldn't move.

"If this is real, if this isn't some illusion, then let me go. I have somewhere I need to be," he said finally.

Unable to see any sort of face, he couldn't tell if the figure was smiling or not but Sirius scowled as they laughed.

"You should be more careful. You are in the space between life and death, it is not a place most come by accident. My role is to collect souls. Rarely do they come to me."

"Who are you?" Sirius asked hoarsely. Again, they laughed.

"You know the answer to that. Use whichever name you wish, for I have many."

"So I'm… I'm dead?" Sirius frowned and cleared his throat, trying to force himself to focus. He remembered falling... Had he fallen through the shrouded archway in the Department of Mysteries?

"You have passed through a doorway into this place, which, as I said before, is between life and death. You have a decision to make." He forced himself to listen as the figure (not Death, Sirius refused to call them that) and considered his options.

Surely it was no question if the choice was between dying and living. He had thought of taking his own life repeatedly in recent years, and going out fighting had always been one of the better ways that Sirius had imagined going out. If there as a Death, then there was something after which they curated… he would be able to see James and Lily again

The thought made Sirius' heartache with longing. He had fought for so long to protect people. He had fought and failed. Peace was a concept long forgotten. A mundane life had never been on the cards for him but the thought that it was all over filled him with relief.

Harry.

Sirius strained against whatever magic was holding him down, wanting to jump to his feet, to pull at his hair. He couldn't leave his godson, not in that world. Not alone. He could never be that selfish. He had sworn to his true family that he would protect their son. He had failed Harry repeatedly, unable to protect him from Azkaban, or from the Dark Lord over the past two years. He might be tired of fighting but that did not matter. He would fight for Harry.

"I need to go back. I have someone I need to protect."

"Do you truly think it will be that easy? I have a reputation to maintain. It is already irregular that you came to this place; wizards once again are tampering with types of magic they don't understand. Perhaps I will make an example of you."

"No, you won't." Sirius simply shook his head, words ringing with confidence. "It must be boring, doing the same things over and over again. Use this as an experiment, as a form of entertainment. In fact, why don't we shake on it?"

Finding he could move again, Sirius forced himself to stay calm and extended his hand. The figure stayed perfectly sill then scoffed.

"Humans are always astonishingly brash and cocky."

"I'm not cocky, I'm rightfully confident."

They did not respond but extended their own hand and grasped his, shrouding it in an amorphous cool silver mist that Sirius tried not to think about too hard. It was one of the old legends, so old it had permeated through to Muggle culture. Death would use magic long forgotten, take your hand and judge your life. It was said that if Death judged your years lived over before your time, your purpose unfulfilled, you could get a second chance.

Sirius watched his life pass before his eyes and clung to that idea. He had had everything taken from him, time and time again, by war, Azkaban and then the imprisonment of a different sort. Trapped within his mind, within Grimmauld Place, Sirius had felt as though he were going mad all over again. His final memory, of him, fighting side by side with Harry made his heartache and then he was blinking and back in the Potter's kitchen again.

"Whatever it takes. An Unforgivable Vow, or —" He was cut off by a loud scoff.

"Why do you think you deserve anything different to what others who die receive?"

"Firstly I wouldn't have died if that doorway hadn't been there. But even so, I have someone I owe. I swore to protect Harry, to be there for him no matter what and I have failed him. I thought I was protecting him, by trying to stop people who might hurt him and instead I ended up hurting him as well," Sirius tried to compose himself, his voice shaking with emotion. "I need to be there for him. So many people want to hurt him and I should be there. I'm a fighter and I need to protect him."

They kept still, letting Sirius talk and he didn't stop until he was rambling about the times he'd babysat for Harry, rocking him until he stopped crying, holding him tighter when he laughed because it was one of the most beautiful sounds that Sirius had ever heard.

"Your silence scares me," Sirius said finally.

"I am Death and yet it is the silence that scares you? You truly are a ridiculous human." They exhaled and then stood, gesturing for Sirius to stand as well. "Fairness does not govern life or death, Sirius Black. And yet, your life had such wasted potential. I look at you and I see a man who truly wants to live."

"I do," Sirius breathed fervently.

"I have one condition if I grant you this. Whether by your design or others, much of your previous life was wasted. That cannot happen again."

Sirius couldn't think of how to reply as it sunk in that he might be getting a second chance so he settled for fervently nodding.

"If you chose to return to the Living then you must live every day to the fullest. I can take this gift away just as quickly as I can give it and you will die on the spot. I do not do third chances. Spend your time wisely, live with adventure and happiness in your heart."

"Thank you."

"When do you wish to return? What pivotal moment do you think will have the largest ripple effect and give you what you want — safety for your godson?"

Sirius didn't even have to think.

"Peter should never be the Potters' Secret Keeper. Maybe I can talk to him, arrest him… but that was the moment that Harry's life changed forever."

"I thought you would want to rescue him after his parents died. Then you could truly protect him yourself."

Sirius shook his head immediately. "His parents will protect him, better than I ever could but I'll still be there, looking out for all of my family. By being their Secret Keeper I'll be able to do just that. There have been times that I've wanted to die, and going back to the war isn't something I relish but I will fight for them."

Slowly, they raised a hand and pointed a finger to the larder door.

"I hope to not see you for many years, Sirius Black."

He was on his feet and across the kitchen before he forced himself to take a breath. Pulling the door open, Sirius gazed at his old apartment. Without hesitation, he walked into the past, determined to create a better future.

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**A/N:** Main Prompt: Write a story using your Chaser 1's genre/s from their first QL fic this season - Genre: General.

Optional Prompts: [word] Mundane, [quote] "I'm not cocky, I'm rightfully confident.", [colour] Silver.


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